


On the Dornish Express

by Apple_Queen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 1920s, Detectives, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Minor Angst, Train Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28535634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apple_Queen/pseuds/Apple_Queen
Summary: E rated times on a train with a 1920s detective flavour. That's all the summary you're getting.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 17
Kudos: 100





	On the Dornish Express

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting with an E rating... going to run away now...

Brienne stabbed a slice of potato aggressively and scowled across the table at her dinner companion. Scowls, frowns and glares rarely left her face whenever they were together, no matter how hard she tried to school her features into neutrality. In spite of having spent more of the last six months with him than not, she still had not learnt the skill, and had all but given up the attempt. 

The wine in Brienne’s glass swayed, dangerously close to splashing over the rim as the train bumped its way around another corner. Taking that as a sign, she took a large gulp. Her companion mirrored her actions with a mocking smile.

Just as she always seemed to be scowling at Jaime Lannister, he always seemed to be smiling at her. He had a large library of smiles, that Brienne had learned to read as easily as a children’s book. From mocking sneers to taunting grins and teasing smirks, even the rare genuine smile that she had only once encountered, following their fateful meeting with a bear just outside Harrenhal. For his part, Jaime seemed well aware that she understood his every expression so well, and to celebrate his ability to insult her without needing to open his mouth.

With his golden hair, sparkling green eyes and sharp jaw, he was indisputably the most handsome man Brienne had ever met. But that didn’t take away from the fact that he was also the most infuriating man she had ever met, and was in her employ. Within five minutes of their first meeting, when he had thought her a man and called her belief that her brother lived insanity, she had been quite sure that she hated him. Since then, his every action and word had only served to cement that opinion. Although she could read his face so well, Brienne had little idea if he returned her vitriol, but she strongly suspected he considered her as a cat considered a mouse: They had travelled through every one of the seven kingdoms in their search and he hadn’t stopped teasing and insulting her for a second, it was as if his sole purpose in life was to make her lose her mind.

Jaime tossed his hateful hair and leaned forward a little. Brienne could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he tried to calculate the combination of words which would annoy her the most. 

“I told you so.” 

Brienne ignored him in favour of sawing at her chicken, imagining it was his neck she was cutting through instead.

“I told you before we left Tarth we wouldn’t find him, and now you’re going back with your tail between your legs having spent rather a lot of Daddy’s money on my services,” he continued unperturbed.

“I had to try.”

“Look, either he doesn’t want to be found or he’s dead, and the correct corpse can be quite hard to locate,” Jaime said, repeating what he’d told her every day for the last six months.

Brienne gulped. She had left home knowing full well that she had little chance of success, but now she was just a few hours from having to tell her father she had failed, of starting to mourn her dear brother. Emotion overwhelmed her like an avalanche- sadness and anger and inadequacy. Scrambling her way out of the booth as quickly as possible, she threw her napkin haphazardly onto her half finished meal and made for the sleeping compartments, almost colliding with the stunned waiter in her haste. She wasn’t sure if she was about to cry or attempt to throttle her dinner companion, but she still had enough of her faculties to know that neither option would be wise, at least not in the middle of dinner aboard the Dornish Express.

“Brienne, wait,” came from somewhere behind her but she ignored it, pushing through the door into her cabin and waving away the startled steward who was in the process of turning down her bed.

Predictably ignorant of her desire to be alone, Jaime pushed in after her, crowding her in the tiny cabin. It was too small for her bulky frame alone, with Jaime there they were practically sharing each breath.

Brienne reached out a hand to push him out again, out of her space, cabin or life she wasn’t sure, but he latched onto the neckline of her beaded evening dress with both hands before she could. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, his face scarcely an inch from hers. The green of his eyes was almost black in the dim light.

An apology was the last thing she would have expected him to give her. Brienne blinked down at the tangle of their arms between them, her hand on his chest sandwiched between his arms on her shoulders. She could feel his heart beating a rapid tattoo beneath her palm. Too fast for the short distance they had walked. 

The tumult of emotions crystallised into one she couldn’t name and she felt lost, as if she was caught in a whirlpool, spinning round and round and round until she no longer knew which way was up and which way was down. Jaime was the only thing she could still see clearly, like an anchor in a storm. Barely knowing what had come over her, she leaned forward and pressed her lips roughly to his.

Jaime made a startled noise, but before she could so much as draw breath, he was kissing her back just as fiercely, hard enough to bruise lips and clash teeth.

It was nothing like the kisses Brienne had suffered through before, awkward and too wet. This one lit a fire inside her. She ran her hands through Jaime’s hair, distantly enjoying the fact that his perfect hair would be hopelessly mussed. Jaime moaned in response and suddenly their tongues were meeting in a dance that felt as natural as breathing. The fire demanded more but the more she gave it the more it wanted. She felt out of control, as if the fire would burn through her, leaving nothing behind, and she would be happy for that.

As if he had read her mind, Jaime drew back, resting his forehead against hers as they both took deep, flustered breaths. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, only with a different meaning to it this time. Anguish was the only word Brienne could think of to explain the expression in his eyes.

“Why?” She whispered.

“I shouldn’t… disrespect you.” He took a great fortifying gulp of air and let it out slowly with his eyes closed. His breath smelt faintly of the toffees he’d reluctantly replaced his pipe with after much nagging from Brienne.

“You aren’t, I kissed you,” Brienne pointed out confusedly. He hadn’t moved away, and the fire still smouldered enough that Brienne didn’t want him to.

His eyes flew open to reveal steely determination. “Brienne, I have to tell you before we part ways. You’re all I think about, I’d rather lose my right hand than lose you. Come with me, be my assistant and we can travel the world solving crimes.”

Brienne felt her eyes well up, tears perilously close to falling. Staying with him had never felt like an option before, but now he had offered it, there was nothing she wanted more. Only, there was a matter Jaime didn’t seem to have considered, and it had been plaguing Brienne in a louder and louder voice the longer their journey lasted. If he were right, if Galladon truly wasn’t coming back, then Brienne was going to have to step into her brother’s shoes and do her utmost best to fill them. Never mind that it wasn’t something she had ever prepared for, never mind that she couldn’t be less suited to the position of Evenstar. There would be no more dressing as she pleased and doing as she liked, no more travelling or adventures. No, she would have to learn to be a lady and try to make a respectable marriage.

“You never said,” she said wetly, evading his question. Jaime caught the tear which escaped her eye with his thumb.

“I didn’t think it would be welcome, not from the vile-“

“Don’t call yourself that,” interjected Brienne. She couldn’t bear to hear that name, not since he had shared the true story of his encounter with the Prime Minister of the Crownlands with her. Not from him or anyone.

A calculating frown marred Jaime’s smooth brow for a moment, then he reached up and kissed her again. This kiss was gentle where the first had been frantic, soft and slow compared to fierce, it spoke of love not just passion.

It felt as if every step on their journey had led them here, to her cramped sleeping carriage on the Dornish Express, with its bunk bed, guttering candles and faint smell of cleaning fluid. It almost felt as if she had no other choice, that there was no other way than to slip his jacket from his shoulders then reach for his tie. Objectively, Brienne knew it was a decision she ought to regret, except she knew she wouldn’t, couldn’t, ever do so. She would always remember this night, and cherish these last memories of him. 

Jaime broke away from her with a groan. “What are you doing? Stop tempting me.”

“I want you,” Brienne replied simply, kissing a trail down a sandpapery cheek to his neck and reaching for the buttons of his waistcoat.

Jaime’s breath hitched and he searched her face, as if trying to decide whether it was a trick. Whatever he saw there seemed to appease him, because he surged back and kissed her deeply, his tongue begging entrance to her mouth immediately to move headily against hers. 

Beads flew from her evening dress, pinging noisily on the parquet floor, followed by the dress itself. Brienne winced, hoping that the dress Jaime had presented her with in Kingslanding, gruffly telling her it would go well with her eyes, wasn’t ruined beyond repair. She stumbled backwards into the bottom bunk, pulling Jaime down on top of her and wondering when he had removed his trousers and shoes, but then he was kissing slow, open mouthed kisses down her neck and all other thoughts vanished.

This couldn’t be more different to the nights she’d spent with Hyle. Hyle had kissed her perfunctorily then carefully removed and folded all of his clothes before blowing out every candle in the vicinity. He had always said all the right things, Brienne would never have invited him into her bed if not, but she’d always thought she could see something in his eyes that suggested he was doing something distasteful. Jaime, however, seemed to enjoy seeing her, whispering “please open your eyes, you have the most beautiful eyes,” in between kisses. He seemed to enjoy touching her too, it felt as if his hands were everywhere at once- exploring strokes up and down her back and sides , leaving tingles in their wake, then fondling her breasts, rolling each nipple under a thumb with just the right amount of pressure, then flipping them over and urging her closer closer closer with an insistent tug on her buttocks. 

Brienne gasped at the sensation of him, hard between her thighs. It felt so right to be pressed up against him, her thin lace bra and their small clothes the only barrier between their hot skin. She meant to pull herself up a little, convinced she must be hurting him with her bulk, but that thought was soon overpowered by the animalistic urge to grind her hips into his and rip off the offending barrier that remained between them.

The train driver blew the whistle, three long shrieks that could probably be heard for miles. They must be approaching a tunnel, thought Brienne distantly. The noise distracted them for a moment and they broke apart to gaze into each other’s eyes as they gasped for breath, sizing each other up for indecision. Wanting to reassure him, she gently took Jaime’s hands and guided them to the fastening of her bra. She grasped the cotton duvet tightly to resist the sudden urge to cover herself- Jaime could not have been reasonably expecting larger breasts, she was fairly sure he had seen them in the baths at Harrenhal in spite of the steam. He didn’t seem disappointed at least, kissing, licking and sucking at her nipples until she was close to screaming. Every bump of the train on the track rocked them together, until Brienne was sure that Jaime must be able to feel how drenched her small clothes were. 

“Are you sure?” He asked. He looked sinful- swollen lips, mussed hair and dilated pupils. It took her breath and with it all speech away, so Brienne chose to answer with action, reaching for her sensible black cotton small clothes. It was awkward to remove them in the bunk without getting up, but she managed to rise up on her knees then wriggle out one leg at a time, surprised not to hear the rip of torn fabric. Jaime copied her lead, laying back and lifting his hips up to shimmy out of his predictably red small clothes, then sitting back up and kissing his way slowly down her neck.

Brienne tentatively pressed her hips down towards his, then froze- shocked by both the groaning noise that Jaime made and the sensation of his cock nudging between the lips of her cunt. 

“Please stop teasing me,” Jaime whispered.

Brienne traced her fingers over his stubbly cheeks, a large part of her still couldn’t believe that he would want her like this. Whatever he had said, she still couldn’t understand how it could be anything but loneliness that had driven him to her cabin tonight. She knew she should hate him if that were the case, but she couldn’t bring herself to. Now they were here, stripped bare together, she could finally admit to herself that she hadn’t hated him for a long time, in fact her feelings had become quite the opposite. Pretending to herself that she hated him had been a mix of denial and self defence. Tomorrow, she would be back at Evenfall, back to responsibility and boredom. She would have to plan her brother’s funeral and grieve for him as she hadn’t allowed herself to do so far. So, today she would allow herself this.

Throwing her head back, she slowly lifted herself up and sunk back down deeply onto him, revelling in the way he filled her millimetre by millimetre. Time stopped as they stared into each others eyes, breathing the same air.

Eventually, Jaime’s hands dropped to her hips and gently encouraged her to start moving. Small, slow thrusts that made her whimper as he brushed up against her clit, then bigger, deeper movements that had him rising up to meet her with thrusts of his own. Jaime grabbed blindly for her head and pulled her in for a deep kiss that made Brienne feel as if he needed her to survive. 

“I’m not going to last long, you feel too good,” he whispered hoarsely into her ear, as if it were a secret.

Somehow, hearing that was what made Brienne, already approaching her climax, hurtle towards it at full speed. She forgot everything, all of her troubles, in a sudden rush of pleasure, and muffled her cries in Jaime’s shoulder in hopes they wouldn’t be overheard. This was why people made such a fuss about sex, she realised with sudden boneless clarity. But Jaime seemed suddenly disgusted with her, pushing her off him with such speed that Brienne fell into the wall in a sprawl of limbs, bumping her head on the bunk above as the train entered the bridge joining Tarth to the mainland with a bump. 

Brienne watched in fascination as he cupped a hand over his cock. She hadn’t seemed to have the time to fully appreciate looking at it earlier, she hadn’t taken in its reddish purple head and the way it jutted slightly to the left. Jaime didn’t try to disguise his huge moan of contentment, clearly less concerned about who might hear them, then reached for his small clothes. Brienne felt mortified for a moment, thinking he was leaving already, until she saw he was only using them to wipe his hand.

“Sorry,” he said, turning back to her with a small embarrassed smile. “I didn’t think I should spend inside… I hope I didn’t hurt you?” 

“No,” said Brienne, opening her arms for him to slide back in. He pulled the blankets up over them and draped himself over her, looking like a cat that had found a spot in the sun. Entwined was the only way the two of them would fit in the bunk anyway, Brienne told herself.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he asked the top of her head lazily.

“Which question?”

“About coming with me. I’ve accepted a case in Meereen next- Lady Targaryen’s tiara has been stolen, they call it her sun and stars.” The careless note in his voice was a deception Brienne realised, he truly wanted her to go with him. 

“In the morning,” Brienne soothed, holding him tight as her heart broke. Jaime fell asleep quickly, but Brienne lay awake, listening to the rhythm of the train and the rhythm of his breath, savouring the warmth of his skin against hers. Although they had slept side by side, snuggled together for warmth during their travels north of the wall, this couldn’t be more different. This time, instead of the sharp cut of every breath of cold air, the pain in her chest was unrelenting, and she knew there was no cure.

***

The shrill whistle of the train as it approached their final destination jolted Brienne from the light doze she had fallen into straight back to her worries and broken heart. Jaime blinked sleepily at her and rubbed his eyes then leaned in for a kiss. But the longer this went on, the harder it would be to say goodbye to him, as she soon would have to. She dodged his lips and roving hands and clambered over him, bumping her head again in the process. Looking back at it, she was surprised two people of their stature had fitted into the bunk at all, never mind doing what they had done last night in it. 

“What’s wrong?” Asked Jaime, standing and reaching for her, completely unconcerned that he was still as naked as his nameday.

Brienne rifled through her bag, pulling out clothes at random with no care how they would look together. Brown trousers and a grey shirt would be fine, and she could do without socks. She gulped down the tears that threatened to rise.

“I can’t come with you, I have responsibilities that I can’t run away from.”

“What, like I did?” Replied Jaime angrily. He grabbed her shoulder and tried to turn her around to face him. Brienne was for once glad of her size and strength, she stood immovable, staring wetly at the floor. “Brienne, would you look at me for the gods sake, I’m trying to tell you I’m in love with you,” he growled.

He spoke the truth, Brienne knew instantly. She had heard too many of his fanciful tales as they tried to wheedle information out of many a potential witness not to be able to tell when he was lying. Love, love, love, reverberated in her chest like a bell tolling. Her hopeful heart rang an answering chime, for what little good it would do. Their time together was over.

“I’m sorry,” she said in an unintentionally loud voice, wrenching herself away from him with the stinging, breaking sensation of tearing off a sticking plaster and taking the two short steps that bought her to the door, clutching her carpet bag in one trembling hand.

Jaime cursed vehemently and started throwing his clothes on haphazardly. He would follow her, she knew he would. She hurtled down the train, pushing past people milling in the corridor as they pulled their belongings out of their cabins, trying to get as much of a head start as possible.

Stepping off the train felt like stepping out into a dream land, somewhere she half remembered, but so many little details seemed slightly different. The chime of the railway clock was a little deeper, the paint on the door into the ticket hall was a darker shade of grey, the sea didn’t smell as sweet as she remembered. Everything was different. Was it Tarth that had changed after all her time away or her?

Jaime caught up with her as she started up the hilly track towards Evenfall, red in the face and sweating. “Would you wait!” He gasped, bending forward and resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “I’ll give it all up, I’ll settle on Tarth. I’ll even claim Casterly Rock and my godsdamned inheritance if you want me to.”

Jigsaw pieces slotted into place in Brienne’s mind. Of course he was one of those Lannisters. Of course the terrible father he complained about so much, who had driven him to leave home with his overbearing ways, was the Prime Minister of the Westerlands. So much made sense. Her heart swelled with affection that he would give up his career for her, that he liked her, loved her even, enough to offer that. But she couldn’t allow that, he loved his work, and was brilliant at it, he was the best investigator in Westeros, that was why she had employed him. And not just that, he made such a difference to so many peoples’ lives. 

“I can’t let you do that,” she said sadly, dropping her bag and reaching out to cup his face with both hands. His skin was warm to the touch and a little clammy after his exertion. She leaned in for a final kiss, needing one more taste of his lips to fix them as firmly as possible in her memory.

Before their lips could meet, the stillness of the track was broken. The sound of gravel crunching under boots, overlaid by the sound of whistling. Very familiar whistling. Whistling that had often been deployed solely to irritate her. She turned quickly enough to jar her neck and ran up the slope towards her dear, infuriating brother, unsure if she wanted to hit him or embrace him. 

Galladon made the decision for her, running down to meet her and spinning her around in a circle then plonking her unceremoniously back down on her feet and ruffling her hair. Brienne shoved his hand away and slapped him none too gently on the arm.

“How could you! Where have you been?! When did you come back? Why didn’t you write to me?” She shouted in an accusatory barrage.

Galladon scuffed his shoe awkwardly in the dirt and looked contrite. “Sorry about that sis, I just needed a little break to clear my head- being the heir gets a bit much sometimes. I went on a little camping trip out near Morne, and while I was there I met this girl down on the beach and I went to stay with her family for a few weeks. Jeyne’s just wonderful, you’re going to love her!”

Brienne scowled at him, how did he imagine she had felt as the presumed heir while he was missing? What was difficult for him, as a handsome, well educated male, coached by their father from the cradle about the work of the Evenstar, was impossible for her. It was just typical of Galladon to be so led by his heart that he forgot about his own family entirely. He had fallen in and out of love at least six times that year already, seven if she counted his newest conquest.

“Father and I tried to telegram you but you always seemed to have moved on just before our message arrived.”

“So you didn’t even leave the island?” Asked Jaime, suddenly very close behind her. Brienne noticed his nostrils flare in that way that meant he was angry. They had made rather a mess of the investigation, Brienne acknowledged. She would need to think of a couple of compliments she could accidentally give to lift Jaime out of the sulk that would no doubt be coming.

Only it wasn’t a mess, it was perfect. Every frustrating dead end had led them to each other instead. Brienne met Jaime’s eyes with a gaze of pure joy that couldn’t be disguised. Galladon was back which meant she was free. She didn’t have to inherit anything, she could choose to go wherever she wanted, and investigating missing diamonds in Meereen sounded like a good starting place.

Galladon cocked his head at Jaime. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced. Did you know that your shirt is on inside out?” He asked cheerfully, holding out his hand and looking slyly between the two of them. It was typical that he had already figured out what had taken the two of them months to realise. That was Galladon, he wouldn’t notice if his wallet was stolen out of his hand, but he could understand people without them needing to say a word.

Jaime looked down at himself with a look of dawning horror, but shook Galladon’s hand and introduced himself nonetheless.

“Jaime Lannister? The Jaime Lannister? You had the famous Jaime Lannister looking for me, Brienne and you didn’t find me!” Exclaimed Galladon. “Can I have your autograph?”

Jaime seemed to have stopped listening though, probably because Brienne was holding his hand and tugging him back towards the station.

“Where are you going?” Shouted Galladon.

“Mereen! We have some diamonds to find!” Brienne shouted back, raising her hand in farewell. “Tell Papa I’ll visit after that!”

“Shouldn’t I talk to your father before we leave?” Hissed Jaime.

“Diamonds first, then you can ask my permission, not my father’s.” 

Jaime sighed but it sounded affectionate. “Do you think we’ll make the train? I left my bag onboard,” he asked.

“We might do if we run,” replied Brienne, and they broke into a jog, slipping and sliding on the loose stones and shrieking with glee.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I built a bridge between Tarth and Storms End, what of it?


End file.
